


Maybe I don't want heaven

by MarieRuby



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Character Study, Childhood Trauma, Established Relationship, First Date, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Happy Ending, Insecure Alec Lightwood, Internalized Homophobia, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Mention - Freeform, Religion, Self-Hatred, Sexy Times, Supportive Magnus Bane, parenting, self love is a journey, slow and steady
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-17 05:25:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12358419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieRuby/pseuds/MarieRuby
Summary: When Alec is eight years old, he stops talking for two weeks. His parents think is a tantrum, a plot to make their lives harder, and tell him he is grounded until he decides to speak again. During that week, Alec Lightwood, heir of the legacy and savior of their reputation, walks carefully in his own home, feet after feet, hands on the walls, praying under his breath and mumbling sweet benedictions-----orA study of Alec Lightwood through the years, and his relationship with self acceptance , love and family.





	1. Losing a Piece of Me

When Alec is eight years old, he stops talking for two weeks. His parents think is a tantrum, a plot to make their lives harder, and tell him he is grounded until he decides to speak again. During that week, Alec Lightwood, heir of the legacy and savior of their reputation, walks carefully in his own home, feet after feet, hands on the walls, praying under his breath and mumbling sweet benedictions. He repeats promises of the past, to be the fastest, strongest, shadowhunter in the world. He bargains with the angels, tells them that if his prayers are answered, he would be like a Silent Brother; he would keep in silence for as long as he could. He trains more than any other child in his life, eats only what he needs, drinks solely for survival.

Nothing works.

Every morning, he wakes up at dawn, a tightness in his chest, confusion in his mind, and tears burning behind his eyelids. He feels abandoned, a child of God, casted on earth and left to his own devices. He remembers the stories Hodge tells him sometimes, of cursed creatures, with darkness inside of them, living in the night, with a wish for chaos and a love for viciousness. He is supposed to be a descendent of the Angel, holy and blessed, made with the purpose to purge the earth from evil. Instead, he is the wicked himself.

If only he could be better. Stop feeling conflict at every turn, different from everyone around him. More like his father and his mother, who always have a frown in their faces and harsh words to each other, but get things done and seem to sleep well at night. More like baby Isabelle, who still smiles at everything and has wonder in her eyes. More like Steve, the shadowhunter from the Chicago institute, with the piercing blue eyes and the warm smile that makes Alec feel butterflies in his stomach.

Steve has brown hair, and is slightly older than him; he can hold real blades when he trains. Every time they meet in the training room, Steve says a polite hello and nods his head. Without exception, Alec feels his hands sweat and his cheeks blush. It’s unfortunate, that his body is disconnected from his mind and doesn’t seem to have any control on what he’ll do next.

He figures it’s an illness. When it doesn’t cure he wonders if it’s an affliction, and when he feels his heartbeat quicken and his legs tremble, he knows it’s a curse. That’s when the praying starts, the promises and the begging to the skies, bargains and pledges of obedience so the sin disappears.

Steve leaves. His parents go back home, and unlike his distant greetings, he squeezes Alec’s shoulders and mutters a quick goodbye under his breath. Steve goes, but the curse stays. Alec knows he is not supposed to feel like this, that other boys don’t feel like their brains are always trying to slip into two, each one pulling at a different direction. He knows he’ll never live up to the expectations or be good enough, because broken souls never do.

\----------------------------------

He tries to quietly befriend a girl, Aline, who’s always visiting from Idris. She is the same age as him, and doesn’t speak much. Their mothers always tell them to train together, and snicker quietly to one another, in hushed voices and secretive smiles. Alec hear words like “marriage “, “honor” and “family”. He knows what they mean, understand what are the expectations on them, and how he should behave. However, Aline barely says a word to him, and almost always beats him when they spar. She is strong and confident in her moves, and the way she rolls her eyes every time he silently offers her a piece of his food is enough to inform him of her feelings about him.

One day, when they are told to take a break and drink some water in the kitchen, she pushes him into the walls of the corridor, and says in angry whispers “I can hear them too. I’ll never be your wife.”. He expression is defiant, and she doesn’t shake even a bit while she holds on his shirt. He feels a smile tug his lips, and a sense of relief wash his body at her words.

“I never wanted you to.” His voice is raspy from disuse and he holds her steady gaze. He sees it in her eyes. The same curse that burns in his veins, the push of brain and heart that take up most of his energy and keep him awake most nights. This is the first honest thing he says in a while, and it feels refreshing to do so.

She let’s go of him and takes a step back. She shorter than him, but she acts like they’re the same size every time they’re in a room together. He likes that about her. He can see how adults might look at them and see union, a future; Maybe if he was different, he would see it too. If there wasn’t darkness inside of him, he would feel sweaty palms and fluttering butterflies in his chest when he looked at her. As it is, he nods once to demonstrate he understands, and steps around her to go get that drink before someone comes looking for them.

After that, Aline stops rolling her eyes at him and says a short “bye” every time she returns home.

\----------------

Alec slowly starts speaking again when he realizes there’s no one responding to his prayers. He figures he must atone for his sins first, so he can have an absolution. He vows to sacrifice everything in his power to appease the anger of the Angels, and keeps asking the heavens for some kind of magic to save him from eternal damnation.

 


	2. The truth runs wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day he walked corridor to meet Lydia at the altar, with shaky steps and panic trapped in his throat, he kept remembering his words to himself. The ultimate sacrifice, the redemption he needed to make his family proud. He would keep going, no matter what, and his duty would always be a priority. He would endure marriage for the sake of the Clave, his parents, his peers.
> 
> “I always knew I couldn’t have what I wanted.” There’s a pause while Alec decides how far he should go, how much he could give Magnus.
> 
> “Until you came in.”  
> \-----  
> or how Magnus makes Alec choose himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is, new chapter! I hope y'all like this one as much as the last one, I had a good time writing it.  
> enjoy  
> xx

Magnus is walking next to him, slow strides that match Alec’s pace and keep the steady rhythm going. He’s telling a story of a men in the renaissance Italy, who had sold all his belongings to buy the forgiveness of the catholic church. It’s a funny anecdote, when Magnus tells it, with wide gestures and a smirk on his lips. The way the story unfolds is colorful and vibrant since Magnus had convinced the men to donate half of the money to to the local orphanage and spend the other half in the luxuries of life.  

Yet, amidst smiling and nodding, Alec can’t stop the list that goes on his head of things he could sell to be pardoned. How many books, clothes, jewelry and weapons would be enough to forgive his sins? How many sacrifices to find absolution in the end? It’s an old habit, to count on his head numbers to achieve redemption; two weeks without talking, three days without eating, five hours of bleeding, zero seconds of crying. It’s mathematics that adds, year after year, prayer after prayer, in hopes to find a path that might not exist.  

“Alec?” Magnus’ voice is inquisitive and he realizes that he’s been quiet for too long. They are approaching the door to Hunter’s Moon, and soon they’ll be inside, surrounded by other people, behaving like it’s a typical Friday night. It feels like he’s on an alternative dimension, where a nice, beautiful men is giving him a chance and seems to want to know him better, and he’s allowed to want back.

“Sorry, got distracted imagining it.” He sounds apologetic and he thinks his expression must indicate the nerves fluttering in his stomach, because Magnus gives him a small, kind smile and puts a hand on the small of his back when it’s time to enter the bar.

The lights are dimmed, and there’s downworlders and shadowhunters talking and drinking. They order at the bar, a beer that tastes bitter in Alec’s tongue and a martini that is gulped down by Magnus in a matter of seconds. They move to the pool table, and after a couple of minutes, it’s easy to shrug the clouds of insecurity and dread hanging over Alec’s head.

Their competitive side shines, along with heated glances, licked lips and shattered breaths. There’s a feeling in the bottom of Alec’s gut, making his veins lit up with a fire that spreads to his cheeks. He knows what is it. He’s felt it before, on the rare occasion he allowed himself to look twice and react.

It’s lust, pure and unaltered. It’s his body craving what has always been denied, to touch and be touched, caressed and payed attention to, with care and devotion. He never dreamed to act on it, scared of the consequences of his actions, of his secret being revealed to the world and his first and most important mission fail in a span of minutes. But now, that he let his parents, his siblings, even the Clave know who is the men behind the mask, what lies beneath the armor, he doesn’t have an excuse to keep putting it off. To know what is like embracing his deepest, darker fantasies and to give in to his instincts.

It’s tempting, to go up to Magnus, whisper in his ear a quiet “Let’s go” and to take the night somewhere else private. If he was someone experienced, with confidence in his steps, he would act on his desires and consummate them. Instead, he gulps down the rest of his beer and follows Magnus the bar, nervously engaging in a conversation that had the potential to end in disaster.

“Wait, Lydia. She’s your only ex?” Magnus sounds surprised, like Alec’s lack of experience in dating is strange.  

The words twist in his tongue when he tries to answer, the lies and the truth piling up together to defend himself over an accusation he is not even sure is there.

“I just haven’t had- the time… for a real relationship.” Alec takes a sip of the Martini Magnus ordered for him, and for the first time in the evening he wonders if this is just a big mistake. If the aspirations for them to be something else, more than a kiss and some furtive flirting in stolen moments, were unfounded.

“Alexander. Just so I’m clear, have you... ever been in a relationship?”

In that moment, Alec has a clear flash of his eight years old self, kneeling at the chapel of the Institute and making quiet promises he kept, until the day he walked down the aisle to meet Magnus’ lips. He pledged to never disobey the rules, to put his family above anyone and anything else, to never fall into temptation.

“You want to know why I haven’t been in a relationship? Because of this. because- I didn’t want to feel like there was something wrong with me...because I grew up in the Institute.” The answer is more truthful than he intended to, but now that he started to talk, he doesn't want to stop.

The day he walked corridor to meet Lydia at the altar, with shaky steps and panic trapped in his throat, he kept remembering his words to himself. The ultimate sacrifice, the redemption he needed to make his family proud. He would keep going, no matter what, and his duty would always be a priority. He would endure marriage for the sake of the Clave, his parents, his peers.

“I always knew I couldn’t have what I wanted.” There’s a pause while Alec decides how far he should go, how much he could give Magnus.

“Until you came in.”

Magnus showed up at the wedding even though Alec had been cold, dismissive, hostile. He wanted Alec more than his own pride, and in that instant, when everyone held their breaths and time was suspended for a couples of seconds, Alec felt a miracle. A sign from the heavens, even if Magnus was a descendant of hell.

So many years believing he was cursed, abandoned, and all the sudden he could see the light again. There were no doubts in his head, and for a split second, the two conflicting parts of his brain met.  He knew what he had to do, even if it went against everything he had worked for, every sacrifice and decision. He walked down, turning his back to his fiancée, his family and the sacred runes. He may have sinned the moment he kissed Magnus, but he never felt more divine.

 

\-----------------------------------

 

The walk back to the loft is strained, accumulated tension in the air making it hard for them to breath. Seventeen thousand people stood between Magnus and Alec, a bridge that seemed impossible to cross if you never had done it before.

It wasn’t about Magnus past lovers, or that it was men and woman, or even the diversity in species of his previous partners. It was that Alec felt unfit, an inadequate twenty-three-year-old man who had never had any experience and didn’t know how to act or what to say. He had so many desires inside of him, trapped inside his moral code and fear, and he didn’t know how to let them out. His fingers itch to get close to Magnus, hold his hand and reassure them this would work. To be as brave as he had been on his wedding day, and take what he wanted for once in his life. But it seemed like all his courage had been spent already, and he has no idea where to get more.

There’s a growing sensation of panic in his chest, the impossibility of a future together after so much time imagining it and longing. Magnus voice strikes him more than a blow to the head would, and leaves him empty. He doesn't know what to say, what to offer, to make it better, and to explain how, as usual, he is the one that is not suitable for the situation.

“You think… maybe we’re too…”

“Different?”

The “Yeah.” is ripped from inside of him, a manifestation of all his fears and reservations proved right in a matter of seconds. They are different, on a level Alec is not sure he can make it work.

“We’re from totally different worlds.”

“Different centuries.” It hurts to say it, but he feels like it’s an obligation, to clarify out loud why he is failing, why can’t give what Magnus deserves.

“I… I should go.” The tremors in his hand are getting harder to fight, and the tears that threaten to spill are growing as he speaks. He doesn’t want to break here, to look weaker than he appears already, in front of his date.

He makes his legs work and walks until the entryway, stopping one last time to say an unspoken goodbye. Alec closes his eyes, because it’s getting impossible to see with the blur in his mind from all the emotion, and takes a breath.

He doesn't want to leave. It feels to final, like a nail on a coffin. It had taken him so much, to quit years of self-flagellation, to turn his back on his achievements and battles so he could fight the entire war. He gathers the last frail pieces of determination inside of him, and turns back around.

“I don’t care how many people you’ve been with.” He needs to make sure Magnus knows he is not the problem. He never was.

“I don’t care how many people you haven’t been with.” The affirmation is clear, convinced. Alec can see Magnus is being honest. Perhaps they both like each other more than they dislike their differences. Maybe he can set aside the voice in his head, at least for today.

It feels like the only step to take is kiss Magnus. He’s been waiting for this moment since that day in the church, when the world stopped revolving, and all of his universe were Magnus’ lips.

 It’s a brief kiss, slow and exploratory that shakes him to his core and assures him of what he suspected. It’s more than he counted on, when he accepted that invitation for drinks so long ago. The drag of their lips against each other last for five seconds, but it feels like eternity.

“I hear that… relationships take effort.”  Alec murmurs. It’s a feat he manages to speak at all, after kissing Magnus again.

“I’m all for effort.”

It’s sounds like a promise. And Alec is usually good at those.  


\-------------------------------------

 

It takes everything in Alec’s will power to knock on Magnus door and step in.

The invisible voice in his head kept trying to interrupt him, to tell him how wrong it was to touch another man like that, how there would be no come back from falling in Magnus Bane’s bed. Years of concealing himself in rules, work and responsibilities, so he could stop wanting were getting in the way of his decision.

There was the hesitancy of wanting more than he could take on, the pictures of naked skin, open mouths and friction plaguing his dreams and every waking moment since meeting Magnus. The overwhelming sensation of desiring someone else so much every rational thought was put on hold.

“Jace here?” Alec looks around once to see if they’re alone.

“No, left hours ago.”

He grabs Magnus by the neck, big hands covering his boyfriend’s face and pauses only to sputter hushed words to confirm they both wanted it.

It doesn’t feel like a long time has passed when he stumbles backwards on the bed, shirt on the floor, and a weight on top of him. It’s grounding, the hands on his face, the necklaces on his chest and the pressure on his legs. His mouth opens to let Magnus in, their tongues mixing and exploring, fast and slow at the same time, like they can't decide which pace they want.

There's sweat starting to gather at his temples, and every time Magnus shifts his hips, the tightness in his pants grows. He's never been with anyone before, every reference he knows it's from the times he used the shower to unleash the tension of a particularly bad day, or the exception of an exciting dream.

This is different from all the times he experiments with himself; there's noises and smells, chuckles and gasping, collision of teeth and tangling of clothes. He loses sight of his surroundings and only realizes that something has changed when he feels cold all the sudden and Magnus is no longer on top of him.

They have to stop because Magnus loses control, lets his guard down and his real eyes shine through. It’s extraordinary, to be allowed to see the vulnerable side of his boyfriend, to participate in his life in a way that lets him be honest, open. It’s also comforting, to know he is not the only one feeling nervous, the only person in this relationship that needs reassurance and support. After making sure that Magnus knows how extraordinary he is, how beautiful his true eyes are, they fall back together and tentatively go back to where they were.

It's not perfect. They are still awkward around each other because it's the first time they are on in this situation. There are breaks to negotiate what's going to happen, pauses to catch a breath or change positions and times where it's too much and they need to stop.

Alec learns that having his neck kissed and sucked on makes him moan out loud and buckle his hips. He discovers that his sides are ticklish and he hates when something is close to his bellybutton. He gathers that kisses on his thighs make him squirm on the bed and that a wicked tongue caressing and sucking him, makes him come before he has time to process what's happening.

He finds out that it's amazing to make Magnus breathless and lose control. The taste someone's skin is more intimate that he expected, and never in his fantasies he thought it would be so good to give his partner pleasure. He needs guidance and time to get it just _right,_ to know the exact way the flick of his wrist makes Magnus curse and bite his lips, and come undone in a matter of seconds. It's a learning process, that extends until in the middle of the night and leaves them satisfied but tired.

When it’s over, because their legs won’t move anymore and there’s a deep exhaustion settling in their bones, Magnus rolls on top him, places his hands on the Alec’s jaw, and leans down.

He kisses his lips, once, twice, small pecks that linger for a couple of seconds and muffle their heavy breathing. He slides his thumbs along Alec’s jaw, mapping the shape of his face and nuzzles his nose along his face, a small movement filled with tenderness and appreciation. Their eyes are closed, and there’s no space between their bodies. There are no words that can be said to portray what is happening between them, and it’s clear that they’re both overwhelmed.  

It feels like worship.

In that moment, Alec knows that someone with higher powers answered him. Those years spent trying to get an answer to his problems, wishing something would come along and set him free, the nights awake and the days punishing himself over something that integrated in his soul, all seems erased.

It can’t be wrong to feel love. It can’t be a sin to wish to devote himself to someone like this, to give them body, soul and mind for as long as he lives. It can’t be immoral to surround himself with affection this big and consuming.

Alec feels pardoned. He feels relief at the base of his spine, that spreads slowly and steadily until it reaches his heart.

His limbs are warm, wrapped around his lover, there’s beard burn all over his mouth and his whole body takes the weight on top of him.

There’s will be challenges in the morning, pasts to uncover, futures to decipher, and battles to win.

He knows there’ll be arguments and nasty fights, moments of profound insecurity and helplessness, days where he’ll wake up doubting everything again, because there are so many years of prejudice inside of him, that sometimes it feels bigger than his will.

However, he if gets to fight alongside the men he loves, yes - he knows it’s love even though it’s too soon to say it -  then he’ll be ok. He’ll get up every time, and keep marching forward. Even when he is the enemy, his head twisting and spiraling the world so it fits the self-depreciation integrated in his soul, he won’t give up.

As he falls asleep, Alec makes a new vow. It’s no longer his wish to burn his mind and scorch his thoughts. He wants to be better, braver, love himself so he can learn how to love Magnus the way he deserves. He wants to build a better world, so the ones that come after him never have to make a choice between their duty and their heart.

Alec Lightwood wants to choose happiness.

 

\-----------------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: the Lightwood-Bane kids.  
> tumblr: marieruby  
> Leave a comment if you liked it, I love to hear from you :)


	3. Let's talk about freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes a few seconds for Rafael to say anything. He has his lips between his teeth, and his legs are bouncing up and down.
> 
> He shrugs his shoulder in a movement that’s typically his, and answers, “ Sure. I can help you.” 
> 
> Small victories, it says in every parenting book Alec has read so far. He has devoured all the literature on adoption, child trauma, post traumatic stress and child psychology he could find. Just because there’s nothing he can do now, doesn't mean he won’t prepare for the day when he can do something to help his new son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The last chapter of this fic! 3rd chapter became a little monster, I couldn't stop writing.  
> Hope you guys like it :)  
> Also. thank you zahrabane (I don't know how to link things, I'm an internet baby) for checking all of my grammar mistakes.

 

Alec is early. He wrapped up the mission reports pilling on his desk for the past few months with quick efficiency, and delegated his tasks for the next few days. It allows him a few extra hours for the day, precious for their rarity. He heads home after double-checking his staff for the night, and mentally plans what he’ll cook for dinner since he has the time.

He enters the loft quietly, in case Magnus has a client over or the kids are napping, and leaves his weapons, coat and shoes by the door. After a quick sweep of the room, he figures everyone must be busy doing their own thing, and heads for a much needed shower. The lights are all off, and the doors are closed, except the last one down the corridor that stands ajar, the natural light of sunset creating shadows on the wall. 

The last door leads to Rafael’s room, the newest addiction to the loft after they took him in eight months ago. Magnus expanded their house to fit another set of walls, and they decorated together over the months, after figuring out the small quirks Rafael allows them to see. It’s still a work in progress, new trinkets being added every week as he feels more comfortable to share. 

Alec walks over to investigate, making sure the cats haven't found a new way to go outside and disturb the neighbors or that Max isn’t messing with magic he isn’t supposed to. 

The picture he sees leaves him feeling cold and slightly panicked. The fear he feels at the simple image of his son kneeling by the bedside table, hands folded together, rosary between them and lips quietly muttering prayers, makes all of the blood  in his body rush to his heart, causing it to beat wildly inside his rib-cage. 

Rafael has his back to the door, his dark hair and stance resembling Alec’s so much he has to close his eyes and shake his head so he can breath again

They’re not connected by blood, and they are barely connect by heart, since they have only known each other for a couple of months, but Alec considers the small boy to be his own. He’s their son, a chosen son, that lights up their days and nights and makes the loft brighter and happier- even when  things get hard.

They took him in after finding him hidden in a dim alley, scared, lost and confused. It was hard to figure out how to make him comfortable enough so he could tell them his name, to usher him to the shower and feed him warm soup. 

After a lot of investigating and prodding of the Shadowhunters in charge of Argentina, they found out the child had lost his home after an attack that killed his parents. It was a sad story, cruel beyond imagination, and they knew they had to try and help this young boy - Rafael.

Magnus had closed his eyes upon hearing all the information Alec had gathered, lost in his own past and memories of being an orphan. When he opened them, glamour gone and honesty in his face, a decision had been made. They were going to take him home.   
  


Alec watches quietly from his place, without making any noises to alert Rafael of his presence. After a couple of minutes, he turns back and enters the living room, sitting down to gather his thoughts. 

Alec knows what Rafael is doing.He’s been watching his behavior, keeping track of his actions, silently storing every fact on his brain to analyze it better, later. At first he figured it was because Rafael was living in a new environment, with strangers telling him what to do and where to go. Then he considered the fact of cultural differences and adaptation. But now, he is running out of excuses and he has to face the truth. 

Rafael almost never sleeps. He paces in his room, alternating between working out and what they think is meditating. He eats controlled meals, never asks for more and often leaves his plate full. He shies away from physical touch and only showers when it’s absolutely necessary. He likes to hear stories of brave soldiers who died in the name of the cause, and he workers harder than anyone else at his training class. 

He prays. Rafael keeps a bible under his pillow, a rosary in his bedside table and a cross at the base of  his neck. He knows all the angels by name, their achievements and history. There’s nothing wrong in having faith, Magnus and Alec each believe in something different and encourage Rafael to keep his traditions alive, but when it becomes an obsession, it’s a problem. Alec knows self-punishment when he sees it. He spent years perfecting the best way to pay for his sins, the best strategies to assure he was settling his wrongdoings. 

Hi son is trying to beg for forgiveness so everyone around him can stop suffering. Alec knows he feels guilty, even though nothing was his fault. They tried to bring the subject up a couple of times, reassure their kid he didn’t do anything wrong, that he wasn’t some sort of cosmic force destroying everything around him. Both Alec and Magnus were familiar with the concept of self-destructive thoughts, and they knew they had to try to stop Rafael from believing he was the one to blame. It was hard to make advances with a traumatized eleven years old boy with trust issues, but Alec thought they were making progress. Until last month, when the changes in his behavior couldn’t be passed as normal anymore.

Alec didn’t know what to do. It took him decades to find solace in himself, to accept who he was and there were still small moments of doubts creeping in the vulnerable moments. He knows that no matter how many times they try to speak with Rafael, this kind of belief is hard to shake off. 

They are alone in the house. By the looks of it, Magnus and Max slipped off  for a quick visit to Catarina. They often go to their friend’s house so Max can have contact with other warlock kids and let off some steam so he wouldn’t accidentally break all the glassware of the loft. 

Usually Magnus leaves the wards up and reinforced, when he has to go somewhere and leave Rafael behind. Since he is only a portal away, if there’s any trouble they made sure their kids have all the emergency numbers memorized. 

It’s not like Alec can call Magnus and ask for immediate help. It’s not going to solve anything and it’s going to cut precious time from Max’s learning process. And he can’t barge in the room and tell Rafael to stop punishing himself. It will only push him away and break their cautious relationship. 

It’s a incapacitating feeling, that he had only experienced a couple of times in his life. When he heard his parents fight through the thin walls of his Idris house,  the days before his wedding when he felt trapped and cornered and with no solution in sight, when Jace was dying and he couldn't do anything to stop it, and when baby Max wouldn’t stop crying no matter what he did. 

It hurts his soul, deep inside his body, to be so lost at thirty-two years old. He’s aged with knowledge and experience; he has a house, a husband, two kids, one cat, and he still feels like those days when he was eight years old and the world seemed like it was going to end  because he thought he was wrong all the time. 

“Alec?” There’s a voice coming from the hallway, small and shy. Rafael knows that even though he was adopted, it doesn't mean he has to forget his old family and suddenly call them  _ dad.  _ He is free to choose what he feels most comfortable with, and so far it had been first names. 

“Hey there, bud. Everything ok?” Alec has to clear his throat before speaking, and subtly squeeze his hands so they will stop shaking. 

“Yeah. Didn’t hear you come home.” He shuffles his way until he is on the armchair across Alec, and sits down softly. 

“I wrapped up earlier than usual. Thought I could make dinner, any requests?” He always hopes  Rafael would ask for something, anything. 

“No.” 

“How about you help me with dessert? I think that if I burn another cake Max and Magnus will turn my hair pink or something.” He says it like a joke, words light and carefree. It’s always a conscious effort to get Rafael to do something with them, to participate in family activities.

“I’ll probably just burn it too.” He looks down and the implication is clear. _ It’ll burn like everything else in my life.  _

“That’s ok. We’ll just do another one, it’ll be faster if there’s two of us. Also, have you heard of safety in numbers? They can’t get us both. I think.” He doubts Magnus or Max care about burned cakes, since they can both snap some incredible dessert from across the world if they want to, but he has a point to make here. 

It takes a few seconds for Rafael to say anything. He has his lips between his teeth, and his legs are bouncing up and down.

He shrugs his shoulder in a movement that’s typically his, and answers, “ Sure. I can help you.” 

_ Small victories _ , it says in every parenting book Alec has read so far. He has devoured all the literature on adoption, child trauma, post traumatic stress and child psychology he could find. Just because there’s nothing he can do now, doesn't mean he won’t prepare for the day when he can do something to help his new son.  

 

\-------------------------------------------------------

 

“It smells like heaven in here!” Magnus comes home with the same grace as usual, Max propped up on his hips even though he is getting too big for that. It must have been a tiring afternoon. 

“Dinner's almost ready. And there’s cake in the oven, Rafael helped me make it.” He gives Magnus a pointed look, a conversational skill they developed along the years  that’s essential when parenting. 

“Oh that’s wonderful. I’m sure it’s going to taste great, darlings.” 

They meet in the middle of the kitchen for a hello kiss, a tradition they have kept all these years. Max takes his head from his papa’s neck and lurches forward so he can transfer to his dad’s arms, and hug him. 

“Hey there, baby. Tired?” 

There’s a muffled “yeah” in his shirt that lets Alec know how much fun Max had, and how well he’ll sleep through the night. 

“Did you do something new at Auntie Cat’s?”

It’s like there’s a sudden explosion of energy as Max lifts his head up so he can look at Alec while he speaks.

“We made fireballs! Warlock fire, not like, real fire, you don’t have to worry! My fire is blue, and papa’s is purple, and he says it’s because every warlock has different energies.” His blabbering is fast, and he moves his hands so he can demonstrate what he means. He’s always been an energetic child, constantly on the move. He leans back and motions he wants to jump to the floor, so Alec lets him go with a kiss on his forehead. 

“Raf! If you were a warlock, what colour would your fireballs be?” 

Rafael gets up from where he was sitting, the tall kitchen bench six year old Max wasn’t tall enough to reach, and puts his hands in his pockets as he mulls over the question. 

“Green.” He says decisively, and doesn’t offer an explanation for his choice. 

“Cool!! It would look awesome, green fireballs.”  

Rafael’s and Max relationship is peculiar. They developed a friendship over the months, and they seem to be inseparable but tentative at the same time. On the first week that Rafael had been living with them, they kept a baby monitor in both rooms in case something was wrong and they needed to act fast. The chances of nightmares, accidental magic use and runaway attempts were high, and sleep was almost impossible as Magnus and Alec braced for the worst. 

They had to hear Rafael pace and Max snore for three days in a row, until there was a quiet shuffling noise and Max’s sleepy voice coming through the monitor.

“Are you scared? Of sleeping here alone? You can come to my room if you want.” His sweet voice almost brought tears to his parents eyes, who listened carefully and prepared themselves for Rafael’s reaction.

There was silence for a while, until a raspy voice answered “Not scared. It’s just... big.” 

“Well… my room has a lot of things, papa  _ loves _ buying stuff, so it looks smaller.” There was an implicit offer, a subtle truce they hoped Rafael would take. 

“I don’t want to steal your blankets.” It was an excuse, and it sounded exactly like one, the last effort to say no. 

“You can bring yours, that way we’re both warm.” 

There was a pause, the noise of fabric being moved, and the sound of a couple of footsteps crossing the hallway.

The relieved breaths Alec and Magnus let out were loud, and they had to soundproof the room briefly so they could talk without being heard. They raised a kind, compassionate child, they could do this again. They made the right decision, bring Rafael to live with them.

Since then, their kids would often share spaces and play together, but always cautious of each other. It was like everyone in the house was walking on eggshells, in permanent fear of disturbing the careful peace they had built. 

“How about we wash up, and eat what dad and Raf made? if we hurry up, we can  _ maybe _ eat warm cake and ice cream” The promise of dessert was enough to make Max dash across the house, and for Magnus to follow him with a smile on his face. 

“Want to set the table? I’ll check the oven while you do it.” Alec’s request is a usual one, as they often shared chores in the kitchen while preparing their meals. However, Rafael doesn’t move from his spot, and keeps his hands in his pockets. 

“Raf?”

“What if it’s not good?” His voice is shaky, like he doesn’t really want speak up. 

“What is not go- Oh! The cake?” He can see where this is going. Rafael’s doubts are understandable, and if Alec plays his cards right, perhaps he can get some sort of point across. Maybe. He was never very good at being subtle. 

Rafael nods, and keeps looking at the floor, like it holds all the answers of the universe.

“You know that even when we do everything right, measure the ingredients, follow the instructions, put the oven in the right temperature, it can still come out pretty bad?”

His son looks up at this, eyes rolling like he can’t believe Alec is proving him right, and not dismissing his insecurities. 

“Yes. That’s what I’m asking.” 

“I know. My point is, that even when we do everything we’re supposed to, life has a way of not going according to plan. It doesn't mean it’s our fault though.” He pauses to make sure his words are being heard, and continues with a soft but convinced voice. 

“ Maybe the ingredients weren’t good, maybe the oven is getting old, maybe there is no explanation for it. It will just taste bad no matter what.”

“And then what?” Rafael’s voice is defiant, and Alec can see the anger in his eyes. 

“And then nothing. We accept it, we throw it out and we try again tomorrow. Some things are out of our control, Rafael.” 

“Just like that? All this work for nothing? You just  _ accept  _ the bad cake?” His fists are tight together, and his posture is defensive. There’s a slight tremor to his legs, and Alec knows he’s making a tremendous effort  not to tear up. 

“Yes. Because planning is good, and it’s helpful, but it doesn’t always work. We’re supposed to have cake and ice cream, but maybe it’ll have to be just ice cream. No harm in that.”

“What if it’s not about cake? What if there  _ is _ harm in not being good at following plans?” They can’t pretend to be talking about cake anymore, since the tension in room is heavy, and they are both breathing hard. 

“Have I told you about the time I almost married a woman named Lydia?” 

“What?” Rafael is clearly thrown  by about the question, and he seems momentarily confused by the direction Alec is taking the conversation. 

“Yes. I was twenty two at the time. I had this plan of how I was supposed to live my life, no matter how much it hurt me. Marrying a nice, proper woman from Idris was a part of it.”

“I thought you didn’t like women.” 

“I don’t. That’s what I mean. I had this instruction book, passed along through generations, of how I should live my life. Work hard, follow the guidelines, marry, have children, focus on my job, put everyone but me first. I was sure that disturbing the rules would have catastrophic results.”  Alec can see the moment the words resonate with him, because he tears up and blinks fast to conceal it. 

“Liking men didn’t fit the book, so I tried to ignore it as hard as I could. I thought that if I didn’t, terrible things would happen. That people would pay for  _ my _ mistakes. So I chose. To be the best one, the strict one, to marry someone for a political reasons, and sacrifice myself in the process.” 

Alec takes a deep breath and takes a step forward, crouching down so they can be at eye level. 

“Except, Rafael, _ I’m  _ not a mistake. My life, my love for others, my faith, these are things that were born with me. I can’t change who I love, and I can’t choose not to be  the way I am. And I can’t influence the fate of the world by not acting how I thought I was supposed to. All I ever did was hurt myself, in the hopes of fixing something that didn’t even need fixing in the first place.There was never a choice, not really.”  

“I know you believe in the angels, so let me tell you something: You came into this world just like you were supposed to. And so did I.”

Rafael lets the tears in eyes fall down, and sniffles quietly in his shirt. His cheeks are red, and he’s twisting his fingers like he wants to reach for something that is not here.  

“There are things you can choose. To be kind, to be respectful, to be a good listener, to be open-minded, to own your faults. But some other things, like who you love, and if plans go right or wrong, these are affairs for something or someone higher than us.”

“You think my parents were supposed to die?” The question comes in broken words, and Rafael takes a guarded step back, like he is protecting himself from Alec’s answer. 

“It think, that no matter if it was set in stone or not, it wasn’t your fault. It happened, and please believe when I say this, it wasn’t because of anything you said or did.” 

“How do you know that? Maybe that was one of the things I could choose.” 

“And what would have you chosen different?”  Alec says patiently, because he hopes Raf can realize by himself he is not the one to blame. 

He looks to the side, and taps his feet on the floor. “I don’t know. Obeyed them more, prayed more often, something like that.” 

“Magnus told me a story once, on our first date. About a man that kept selling his belongings so he could buy his forgiveness. It got me thinking, at the time, what  I had to sell to pay for my sins. I had a whole list going in my head, one item for each thing I though I did wrong.” He reaches out to grab Rafael’s little hands between his. 

“Raf, look at me. We could both sell everything we own, pray all the prayers in the bible, sacrifice every little thing we hold dear, that it wouldn’t make a difference. Because we don’t need forgiveness, not for simply existing.” 

Rafael is silent, contemplating the words and trying to find solace in them. It’s not that easy, to shake off the notion that there’s something wrong in him, to let go of the survivor's guilt. He seems lost for words, and Alec decides to make it easier for now.

“You don’t have to say anything, we can talk about it anytime you want. And if you don’t talk to me or Magnus, that’s ok too. We’ll find someone who you feel comfortable and can help you. There’s no shame in asking for support.” 

Rafael nods, and squeezes Alec’s hand. It doesn’t seem like he wants to speak any further, and he takes a step back. 

The moment Alec gets up and Rafael starts pulling the cabinets open to find the plates, Magnus enters the kitchen with a knowing look. He was probably giving them space to talk, and didn’t want to interrupt Rafael while he was being vulnerable. 

“All ready to go?” Magnus walks until he is behind Alec and kisses his neck lightly. It’s a sign of implicit encouragement, and a way to calm down his husband. 

“Yes, make sure Max gets here soon.”

They keep it simple and easy. Dinner is a collection of stories from the past and the present, anecdotes and smiles. When they take out the cake, it’s smells divine and it tastes even better. Magnus and Max congratulate them for a job well done, and Rafael looks at Alec with pointed eyes _. It went well,  _ they say, and Alec answers with a  _ It does sometimes.  _ He looks around and sees his family, in the comfort of his home, happily sharing dessert and laughed. 

It went really well.

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr for more malec and general nonsense: marieruby  
> Leave a comment if you liked it! There's an extra little scene that didn't make the final cut, I might post it someday.  
> Thank you for reading!


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